And fast, fast gaed she hame:
‘Whare hae ye been, my dear dochter?
Ye hae na been your lane.
18
‘The nicht is misty, weet, and mirk;
Ye may look out and see;
The ewes war skippin oure the knowes,
They wad na bucht in for me.
19
‘But wae be to your shepherd, father,